


Apples and Cloves

by titania522



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Capitol, Flashbacks, Gen, Holiday, PTSD, Post Mockingjay, Snow Storm, Winter Solstice, christmas drabble, dr. aurelius - Freeform, hijackings, mockingjay part 2, red sweater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:59:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5550029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titania522/pseuds/titania522
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Day 6, Yuletide in Panem writing challenge</p><p>When Peeta has to return to the Capitol for his annual check-up, Katniss is beside herself with anxiety.   Peeta finds a way to comfort both of them, calling on family traditions from before the Dark Days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apples and Cloves

**banner by the unbelievably talented akai-echo**

 

**Written for[Yuletide in Panem ](yuletideinpanem.tumblr.com)writing challenge, Day 6**

**Apples and Cloves**

  
  


Katniss pulled Peeta’s maroon sweater from the drawer and handed it to him, where he packed it snugly into his carrier bag.  “When will you be back, again?”  she asked, looking longingly at the vibrantly-colored, hand-made cable knit she’d given him for his birthday. It was, hand’s down, her favorite sweater because of the way the color contrasted with his lightly-colored skin, it’s snug cut outlining his well-defined chest and back muscles.  She couldn’t begrudge him if he wanted to take it with him on his visit to the Capitol.  She just hated that he would be wearing it, especially _there_ , and she wouldn’t be around to appreciate it.

****

“My return train is on Friday afternoon,” he said, rummaging for extra socks and boxer shorts and tossing them on top of the pile of neatly folded clothes.  “If everything works out and it doesn’t snow too badly, I’ll be back home before you know it and won’t have to return for another year,” he continued, sealing the bag shut when he was sure he’d packed everything on his list.  Katniss smiled despite her unhappiness, which she tried with all her might to not let him see. He made lists for everything - to-do lists, shopping lists, birthday, gift and packing lists...she found his notes all over the house.  It was ironic, given that Katniss had a more lackadaisical approach to the concept of organization.

****

He rolled the carry-on out of the room and down the stairs, setting it next to the entrance. His wallet, tickets and house keys already sat on the credenza in the vestibule, ready to be scooped up when he left to catch his train early in the morning.

****

Katniss settled down on the sofa, twisting the hem of her sweater.  Her anxiety was kicking in with a vengeance but she used her breathing techniques so that, by the time he had arranged all of his things and taken a seat next to her, her heart was no longer galloping hard in her chest. Peeta put his arms around her and pulled her to him, squeezing her close.

****

“You don’t need to worry, you know,” he said.

****

“I’m not worrying,” Katniss scowled, feeling an irrational surge of anger towards him. As if it was his fault that he had to go away for his annual follow-up visit with Dr. Aurelius. As if he could be blamed for the hijacking that rendered these visits necessary. As if he’d asked to be abandoned in the Arena, as just another piece of collateral damage in the mission to save Katniss.

****

“If you say so,” he quipped, leaving kisses along her neck and shoulders, but Katniss pulled away, giving an imperceptible shake of her head.  Peeta stopped, leaning back slightly back to look at her. Even though he schooled his features, it was evident on his face that her rejection had hurt him.

****

She felt her self-loathing rise within her and, had she not been pinned to Peeta’s side by his strong arms, she would have cleared the door of their home in Victor’s Village and ended up in the woods. She wanted to spend the last few hours with him, even if she felt in the deepest part of her heart that she didn’t deserve him. His annual visits to the Capitol provoked some of her darkest moods because directly or indirectly, it would always be her fault that he needed to go there.

****

Peeta stood suddenly, jarring Katniss from her thoughts.

****

“Help me with something,” he said, offering his hand to help her off the sofa.

****

Katniss eyed him warily but took the proffered hand.  He led her to the kitchen, picking up two apples from the fruit basket as they walked and handing them to her.

****

“I’m not hungry,” Katniss complained, holding the small harvest apples in her hand, their tight, shiny skin cool against her palms.

****

“We’re not going to eat them,” Peeta said, pulling out a jar of cloves, cinnamon and freshly ground vanilla beans.  He also set two places at the table with a plate on top of each. Katniss watched his every move, momentarily forgetting her growing despondency.

****

“Sit,” he ordered her, setting the jars on the table and taking the seat next to her. He opened the jar holding the cloves, which sat like brown-black tacks piled one on top of the other. The smell was pungent and strong and quickly filled the kitchen, making Katniss suddenly relax despite herself.

****

“We used to make these as gifts for each other on the longest night of the year, if the apple tree was giving good fruit that year and if mother was willing to spare the cloves,” he said, smiling so sweetly, his blue eyes appeared to sparkle in the dim light of the kitchen.  “Dad said it brought good luck for the new year.” his forehead furrowed momentarily and Katniss knew he was thinking of his family, who were no longer with them, like so many others.  Because of her.

****

He resumed the task before him. “Take the apple in your right hand, since your lefty,” he held his apple firmly in his right hand and reached into the clove jar. “Take the pointy end of the cloves and press it down into the skin, like this…”

****

Katniss wanted to ask him why the hell she should bother with this - he was leaving tomorrow and she would lock herself in the bedroom for four days anyway, trying to keep herself from losing her mind. She wanted to tell him that she could do it, she could be strong without him, but it was too soon, she wasn’t ready and anyway, she didn’t _want_ to be strong without him. She needed him to stay and keep her memories and grief from overwhelming her.

****

But she didn’t say any of these things.  Instead, she did what she was told, pressing cloves over the surface of the apple. Peeta did the same with his, spacing his cloves out in perfect symmetry. Katniss placed hers more randomly, some cloves closer together than others, taking more pleasure in the act of pressing the stiff points into the skin then in the results. She felt the ball of nerves in her stomach unravel with each press, the sweet juice of the apple coating her finger tips.  The repetition soothed her so that by the time Peeta stopped her, she was calmer than when she’d first sat down at the table.

****

Peeta got up to rummage about, returning with some cheese cloth, a swatch of red and black plaid that Katniss had salvaged from one of her torn hunting shirts, red ribbon and a pair of scissors.

****

He cut the cheesecloth into two large squares and did the same to the plaid before laying them on the table - plaid outside, cheesecloth inside - and placing the apples in the middle. Katniss studied his hands, staring at the veins and crinkled skin of his strong fingers as he unscrewed the caps of the vanilla and cinnamon jars.

****

“Now, it doesn’t matter how you do this,” he said, turning to take out two tiny teaspoons from the side cupboard, dipping each in the ground powders before them.  “Rye..he liked to take his finger and smear the cinnamon between the cloves. He also got it in his eyes every year so maybe that’s not the best idea ever,” he chuckled, sprinkling the contents over the top of the apple.

****

Following his lead, she did the same, covering the top of the apple with sporadic clumps of cinnamon, earning a smirk from Peeta, whose own confection looked like something he could sell away in the bakery. He did the same thing with the vanilla, covering the top, the interplay of flavors making Katniss’ heart lighter, filling each dark corner with cozy comfort. It called to mind winter nights such as tonight, snow-dappled trees and stars twinkling through the a crisp, clear air while they sat beneath the ornamented sky, wrapped in a quilt, steaming cups of hot cocoa warming their fingers.

****

“I can’t stand it that you’re leaving,” Katniss blurted out bitterly, the sweetness of her thoughts swallowed by the bitterness of her longing.

****

Peeta stopped his work, wiping his hands on a towel before turning towards her. “I don’t want to leave you, not even for a day.  But it’s good for me to go to him.  It’s confirmation that I’m fine, that everything’s okay with me,” his voice shook but he continued more cheerfully.  “And when they lift your travel restrictions, you’ll never have to sit here, waiting for me to come home.  You can come with me too, if I still need to go.”

****

“I‘ll never go to the Capitol. It’s...I can’t…” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.  She wouldn’t cry. She refused to cry.

****

“And that’s fine,” Peeta said, squeezing her knee, which was pressed against the good part of his leg.  “You don’t have to decide that now. You just have to stay okay until I get back,” he said, averting his eyes back towards the apples so that she was unable to see what was in them. “Please.”

****

He was worried about her. He didn’t need to tell her but she knew. Maybe he worried as much as she did about herself. She felt suddenly, obscenely selfish, fretting over her mental state, projecting that onto him, when she should try to make him comfortable and serene.  After all, he was going back to where he’d been tortured. It couldn’t be easy for him either.

****

Peeta, meanwhile, pulled up the corners of the cheesecloth and the square of material over the top of the apple, tying it off with a piece of ribbon that he quickly made into a bow.  Katniss did the same, her bow at least as respectable as his, which filled her with pride.  When they were done, they had what looked like two wrapped gifts sitting on the table before them.

****

“We’re just a few days away from the longest night of the year,” he said, handing his near perfect apple to Katniss.  “It’ll remind us of each other while we’re apart.”

****

Katniss looked at Peeta, a powerful tenderness stealing over her as she cradled his apple. She handed him the one she made. “You mean, you’ll take it with you?”

****

Peeta nodded, bringing it to his nose and taking a long drag of the aromas emanating from it. “It smells like our house in winter. Apple pies and hot chocolate with vanilla…”

****

“Cinnamon rolls and pancakes with maple syrup and frosted sugar cookies…”

****

Peeta smiled at her as she buried her nose in his treat.  It smelled like everything that was good, all the things that made her feel safe and happy and at home. It smelled like Peeta and she knew it would soften somewhat the blow of his absence. She looked up and returned his smile. It was so soon, after all, and it was unrealistic to expect them to be perfectly healthy and well-adjusted to this life.  Maybe one day, they’d get to a place of normalcy, even with so many difficult days in between.  But she trusted that it could happen.

****

Peeta leaned in for a kiss. This time, Katniss did not pull away.

**  
**


End file.
